Guitar Strings and Coffee
by theTEMP
Summary: Shortly after breaking up with Karen, Jim agrees to play his guitar at a coffee shop. Happiness ensues for him. Read and review. JAM. Oneshot.


A/N: I'm back. I know, it's been about a year since I finished up my last fic, _Breaking Point_. Did you miss me? No? Well, I'm back anyway. Just letting you know now that I did **_not_** actually write the song in this story. I am not talented enough for that. I have more details about the song at the bottom of the page. I don't know what else to say, so let's get started…

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**Guitar Strings and Coffee**

By: theTEMP

It was a bright, sunny July Saturday in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Jim Halpert, however, wasn't thinking about the perfect day. He was too busy with the massive argument he was having with his girlfriend at the moment.

"I can't do this any more Jim. I can't be with you while you still have feelings for her," Karen Filippelli half-shouted.

Jim didn't need to ask who "her" was; Pam, the beautiful, witty, simply _incredible_, receptionist from work. He did, however, feel the need to contradict her, "Karen, I…" his voice trailed off as the implications of the last thought registered in his mind.

He _had_ entered into his relationship with Karen trying to get over Pam. And if his thoughts were any indication, the attempt was failing miserably. _Yeah_, he thought bitterly, _like it took you 'till just now to figure that out._ "…I'm sorry."

Karen clearly wasn't expecting that, she started shouting again, "No, Jim, you…what?"

Jim's eyes were frantically inspecting his shoes as if they were the most fascinating things in the world, "I'm sorry. You're right. I thought I could get over Pam when I moved to Stamford and met you. Then we came back here, and I thought, if you were here, it could still work. I was wrong, and I wish I could have known that from the beginning to keep you from getting hurt."

There were tears in Karen's eyes as she said, "I think you should leave." Jim took a step toward Karen to comfort her, but she stopped him, "No, don't. Just go."

Jim nodded and took a step back, "I'm sorry," he said again. Then he turned around and left the house.

* * *

After leaving Karen's house, Jim took a walk to try and clear his head. After about half an hour, he realized where he was. He had wandered to a little strip mall a few minutes' drive away from his house. He scanned the storefronts; there was a bar, a convenience store, a coffee shop, and a few others. The coffee shop, _Take Five_, was what interested him, it was owned by a friend of his. He grinned as he walked toward the shop and opened the door, and was greeted by an electronic _ping_ as he did so.

At the front of the shop were maybe a dozen small tables, with several on the right resting on a raised platform. Jim knew that Matt, the owner of the little shop, used the platform as an impromptu stage when he occasionally hired musicians to play to keep his customers entertained. Beyond the grouping of tables was a counter that took up the entire back wall. The place was empty, at the moment, which wasn't surprising, seeing as it was a little after two in the afternoon on a Saturday. Emerging from the doorway that led to the storeroom in back was Matt.

"Jim Halpert!" he exclaimed, "What brings you to my humble little coffee shop?"

Jim smiled at his friend, "I was just in the neighborhood and decided to stop in. Grab some coffee, ask a couple questions."

Matt nodded, "Sure thing. The usual?" Jim nodded and Matt spun around and started putting together Jim's usual: a medium coffee, two creamers, and extra sugar. Jim shook his head; Matt was almost the polar opposite of Jim. Where Jim was tall with artfully messy brown hair, Matt was short with meticulously combed bright red hair. While Jim was generally a calm, reserved person, Matt was always active. It was like he was on a permanent sugar rush. "So you said you had a couple of questions," he asked as he handed Jim his coffee.

Jim nodded as he paid handed Matt some money, "Yeah, I was wondering if that offer you made at the poker game last week was still good."

Matt looked shocked, "Really? You want to play here? What made you change your mind?"

Jim shrugged, "I don't know, I just want to shake things up a bit, you know? Do something I normally wouldn't. And I want something to distract me. Karen and I just broke up."

Matt just looked at him, "Pam?"

"Excuse me?"

"Was it about Pam?"

Jim grimaced, he had had too much to drink at a poker game one night, over a year ago, and started talking about Pam. The guys never let him live it down. "Yeah. It was about Pam."

An almost-awkward silence fell for a second before Matt said, "So you want to play, huh. When were you thinking?"

Jim thought about it for a moment, "Whenever works for you is good."

Matt fished a small book out of his pocket and began flipping through it. "Well," he said, "I can either put you in tomorrow at eight for half an hour, or I can get back to you in a month."

Jim thought about it for a minute, then said, "Okay. Tomorrow works for me."

Matt smiled, "Great! I'll see you then. I'm gonna go call the guys and tell them."

"Cool. I'll see you tomorrow," Jim called as he walked out the door. As he headed in the direction of his house, he started to think, _what the hell have I just done?

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The next day, Jim put his guitar into his car and headed over to _Take Five_ at quarter to eight. When he got there, he carried his guitar inside and was greeted by Matt at the door, "Hey Jim! You're here. You just won me twenty bucks." Jim's only response was to quirk an eyebrow at his friend. "Mark and I had a bet on whether or not you would show up," he explained.

"And Mark said I would wuss out." Jim grinned and walked into the coffee shop. Sure enough, Mark was inside waiting for him.

"Damn," Mark whispered. "You just cost me twenty bucks. You know that right?"

Jim set his guitar down and looked at his former roommate, before he could reply though, Matt said, "You should know better than to bet against the Big Tuna, man. He always pulls through.

Jim stiffened at the sound of the hated nickname. "Okay Matt, that's it. I am never telling you anything _ever_ again," he said laughing.

Still laughing, Jim started to get settled into the space that was cleared for him on the raised platform. He opened his guitar case and carefully extricated the instrument. He then spun the open case so that it could receive any tips from his audience. In the few minutes he had until eight, he started tuning his guitar. When he finished he looked up at the group in front of him. Most of them he knew, at least in passing, but a few were faces unfamiliar.

Suddenly, Jim was intensely nervous. He shook off the feeling and said, "How's everyone doin' tonight?" There was a quiet murmur from the crowd. "Alright, for those of you who don't know me, my name's Jim Halpert, and I'll be your entertainment for the next half hour. I don't have much time up here, so I'm just gonna get started." With that, he started to strum the guitar strings and sing.

* * *

Pam Beesly was bored. A person could only be expected to stare at a television screen for so long if nothing good was on, and there was nothing good on today. Normally, she would have just started painting. She loved to paint, but she was too tired to put any level of effort into the task, which would have rendered the entire process an exercise in futility, while at the same time wasting painting supplies. She stood up and walked into her kitchen to make a sandwich.

Halfway there, she remembered that she was out of bread, and milk come to think of it. She would have to go out and buy some later. She looked back into her living room; _then again_, she thought, _it's not like there's anything interesting happening right now. At least I'll have something to do._ So she shut off the TV and put on her sneakers. She walked outside, into the warm air and got into her car. She started up and drove down the street, to the small strip mall a couple blocks away from her apartment.

When she reached the mall she parked in front of the convenience store and exited her car. Halfway there, though, she noticed a coffee shop out of the corner of her eye. She usually wasn't much of a coffee drinker, but the thought of a hot, caffeinated drink sounded really good to her at the moment. So she altered her course and headed for the little shop. As she reached the door, she could see a group of people, all facing the same direction, as if watching something. As she opened the door, an electronic _ping_ sounded and she could see what, or rather who, everyone was watching. Her jaw dropped.

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Jim was just finishing a song when he heard the _ping_. He looked up to see the newcomer, and froze, just for a second. There was no way Pam was here. The odds of it had to be somewhere in the vicinity of one hundred million to one against. But sure enough, there she was, looking perfect, even with her mouth hanging slightly open in shock. Jim shook off his momentary shock and scanned the rest of the crowd. Nobody seemed to have noticed the moment.

He glanced at his watch, then back up at his audience, "Alright everybody, I'm almost out of time here, so I'm just gonna do one more song. I wrote this one myself, a little over a year ago. I've literally never played it for anyone, so you're the first ones to hear it. I wrote it for someone really special to me." As he said this last bit, he met and held Pam's eyes for an instant. It was enough though, judging by the way she stiffened and sat at the nearest empty table without taking her eyes off him. If someone had asked him, even minutes later, what had possessed him to do this, he would have had no clue how to answer.

He looked down at his guitar and started to play. After a brief intro, he started to sing too.

"I'm watching all my steps now

I don't want you to notice

But I am sure you've felt the same before"

He glanced around the crowd gathered around him, gauging their reactions. He really hadn't ever played this for anyone. Most of them seemed to have lost themselves in the beat, and were kind of moving their heads in time with the music. Except for Pam, who was sitting perfectly still, gazing at him in disbelief.

"And I should be more careful

The silence spoke it for me

I had never meant to let you know"

Jim had written this song immediately after Michael's casino night. He had used music as a way to escape from pain his entire life, and somehow just listening didn't seem like it would help after that night.

"It gives you away

It gives me away"

The next verse was the most painful for him. It was the most direct reference to that night in the whole song.

"I covered all my bases

Then blew the thing wide open

I just wanted you to know one time"

This next part was something he wanted to say to her for so long while she was engaged.

"That ring around your finger

Is killing all my senses

Still I can hear the silence from your mouth"

Right then was when exactly what he was doing registered with him. He was fairly certain that this was equivalent to walking up to Pam and saying that he was still in love with her.

"It gives you away

It gives me away

It gives you away

It gives me away

It gives you away

It gives me away

It gives you away

It gives me away"

_Well_, he thought, _if the rest of the song isn't a declaration of my surviving love for her, the next part definitely is._

"If this is all there is

I'll live with it

This lonely kiss

But if you've got more to give

I'll fight for it

With every breath

I'll fight for it

I'll fight for it"

As he finished singing, he strummed out the last few notes and let out a quiet sigh. That was it. He stood up and waved at the applauding crowd, "Thank you, that's all the time I have. You guys have been great." He placed his guitar in its case, right on top of the small pile of dollar bills that littered the bottom. He stood up and jumped when he turned around to find Pam standing right behind him. "Jesus, Pam. You scared me."

She looked embarrassed by the fact, "Sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't worry about it."

There was an awkward silence that stretched for several seconds. Jim thought that their relationship was made up of a lot of those recently. Finally, Pam whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, "I've still got more to give." Jim stared at her, confused for a second, before the meaning clicked in his mind. Before he could say anything though, Pam grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down into a kiss. When the shock of the moment faded, Jim wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

Mark, who had been watching the couple from over by the counter in back with Matt, shook his head and said, "About damn time."

**THE END **

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Well, that's it. What did you guys think? Please review. Reviews sustain me. Oh, I almost forgot: the song in here is called "The Silence" it's by a band called Prospect Mali. The song was actually inspired by Jim and Pam. Visit the band's website at www. prospectmali .com. I should be back with another story soon, hopefully in less than a year from now.


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